Thursday, October 20, 2011

Do Writers Dream Differently?

"Other people's dreams," my father used to tell me, "are the most boring stories in the world."

Well, folks. Prepare for boredom--'cuz I just have to write this one down.

So there I was, gambling at a (non-existent) local casino, playing slots. All of a sudden, my machine froze, bright lights blinked on and off, and a sign flashed "BIG WINNER."

Clearly, I'd hit something huge. Now, this being a dream and all, I couldn't quite make out HOW huge. I kept trying to count the numbers...place a comma or a decimal point somewhere. The best I could make out, I'd either won hundreds of dollars or thousands.

Being a seasoned gambler, I waited patiently for the gaming clerk to arrive for the payout. Eventually, a young woman showed up, asked for my I.D., and departed to obtain my winnings.

She returned with my I.D. and a small envelope. I peeked inside, retrieved a check and zeroed in on the amount: EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!

Yikes! (In my dream state, I'm pretty sure my heart rate skyrocketed.)

Meanwhile, I called Ann and Marty, telling them to get down to the casino--exciting things were happening. I pulled out the check again, to bask in all its glory and discovered...huh?? Wha...happened? Instead of seeing MY name as the Payee, I saw "Delores Willings."

After a brief moment of panic, I calmed down. Mistakes happen, I reasoned. Somehow they typed in the wrong person's name. Immediately, I set about trying to rectify the situation, starting with using the "need service" button on the slot machine.

When that didn't summon anyone, I went in search of "security," and found myself re-routed several times. Finally, Ann and Marty showed up and I reached inside my purse to show them the check...only THIS time, only the stub was left.

The check was GONE!

Another mysterious turn of events!

After mulling the situation over, I figured out the nefarious scheme to which I'd obviously been subjected--the old I.D. switcheroo. To wit: when I sent my I.D. with the casino clerk, this Delores chick somehow intercepted the transaction, substituting HER I.D. for mine so that the check would be made out to her. Then she stole the check from my purse (not sure why she left the stub).

If my theory were to prove correct, I would now discover my I.D. missing...and sure enough, it was gone. Because, I reasoned, the one returned to me was not mine but Delores's. And along with the 80 thousand smackers, she'd retrieved her I.D.

Totally bummed, I finally located the Head of Security. With a sad smile, he reached inside his breast pocket and produced my driver's license.

"Looking for this?" he asked.

End of dream.

Weird, huh? Pretty detailed. And a handsome show of analytical powers, eh?

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